Chapter 11
CAPT. G. Nor I. It seems so strange; and yet, somehow, it doesn't. (_Confidently._) You see, it could have been no one else.
MRS. G. (_Softly._) No. No one else--for me or for you. It must have been _all_ arranged from the beginning. Phil, tell me again what made you care for me.
CAPT. G. How could I help it? You were _you_, you know.
MRS. G. Did you ever want to help it? Speak the truth!
CAPT. G. (_A twinkle in his eye._) I did, darling, just at the first. But only at the very first. (_Chuckles._) I called you--stoop low and I'll whisper--'a little beast.' Ho! Ho! Ho!
MRS. G. (_Taking him by the moustache and making him sit up._) 'A--little--beast!' Stop laughing over your crime! And yet you had the--the--awful cheek to propose to me!
CAPT. G. I'd changed my mind then. And you weren't a little beast any more.
MRS. G. Thank you, Sir! And when was I ever?
CAPT. G. _Never!_ But that first day, when you gave me tea in that peach-coloured muslin gown thing, you looked--you did indeed, dear--such an absurd little mite. And I didn't know what to say to you.
MRS. G. (_Twisting moustache._) So you said 'little beast.' Upon my word, Sir! _I_ called _you_ a 'Crrrreature,' but I wish now I had called you something worse.
CAPT. G. (_Very meekly._) I apologise, but you're hurting me awf'ly. (_Interlude._) You're welcome to torture me again on those terms.
MRS. G. Oh, _why_ did you let me do it?
CAPT. G. (_Looking across valley._) No reason in particular, but--if it amused you or did you any good--you might--wipe those dear little boots of yours on me.
MRS. G. (_Stretching out her hands._) Don't! Oh, don't! Philip, my King, _please_ don't talk like that. It's how _I_ feel. You're so much too good for me. So much too good!
CAPT. G. Me! I'm not fit to put my arm round you. (_Puts it round._)
MRS. G. Yes, you are. But I--what have I ever done?
CAPT. G. Given me a wee bit of your heart, haven't you, my Queen?
MRS. G. _That's_ nothing. Any one would do _that._ They cou--couldn't help it.
CAPT. G. Pussy, you'll make me horribly conceited. Just when I was beginning to feel so humble, too.
MRS. G. Humble! I don't believe it's in your character.
CAPT. G. What do you know of my character, Impertinence?
MRS. G. Ah, but I shall, shan't I, Phil? I shall have time in all the years and years to come, to know everything about you; and there will be no secrets between us.
CAPT. G. Little witch! I believe you know me thoroughly already.
MRS. G. I think I can guess. You're selfish?
CAPT. G. Yes.
MRS. G. Foolish?
CAPT. G. _Very._
MRS. G. And a dear?
CAPT. G. That is as my lady pleases.
MRS. G. Then your lady _is_ pleased. (_A pause._) D'you know that we're two solemn, serious, grown-up people--
CAPT. G. (_Tilting her straw hat over her eyes._) You grown-up! Pooh! You're a baby.
MRS. G. And we're talking nonsense.
CAPT. G. Then let's go on talking nonsense. I rather like it. Pussy, I'll tell you a secret. Promise not to repeat?
MRS. G. Ye--es. Only to you.
CAPT. G. I love you.
MRS. G. Re-ally! For how long?
CAPT. G. For ever and ever.
MRS. G. That's a long time.
CAPT. G. 'Think so? It's the shortest _I_ can do with.
MRS. G. You're getting quite clever.
CAPT. G. I'm talking to _you._
MRS. G. Prettily turned. Hold up your stupid old head and I'll pay you for it!
CAPT. G. (_Affecting supreme contempt._) Take it yourself if you want it.
MRS. G. I've a great mind to--and I will! (_Takes it and is repaid with interest._)
CAPT. G. Little Featherweight, it's my opinion that we _are_ a couple of idiots.
MRS. G. We're the only two sensible people in the world! Ask the eagle. He's coming by.
CAPT. G. Ah! I dare say he's seen a good many sensible people at Mahasu. They say that those birds live for ever so long.
MRS. G. How long?
CAPT. G. A hundred and twenty years.
MRS. G. A hundred and twenty years! O-oh! And in a hundred and twenty years where will these two sensible people be?
CAPT. G. What _does_ it matter so long as we are together now?
MRS. G. (_Looking round the horizon._) Yes. Only you and I--I and you--in the whole wide, wide world until the end. (_Sees the line of the Snows._) How big and quiet the hills look! D'you think they care for us?
CAPT. G. 'Can't say I've consulted 'em particularly. _I_ care, and that's enough for me.
MRS. G. (_Drawing nearer to him._) Yes, now--but afterwards. What's that little black blur on the Snows?
CAPT. G. A snowstorm, forty miles away. You'll see it move, as the wind carries it across the face of that spur, and then it will be all gone.
MRS. G. And then it will be all gone. (_Shivers._)
CAPT. G. (_Anxiously._) 'Not chilled, pet, are you? 'Better let me get your cloak.
MRS. G. No. Don't leave me, Phil. Stay here. I believe I am afraid. Oh, why are the hills so _horrid!_ Phil, promise me, promise me that you'll _always_ love me.
CAPT. G. What's the trouble, darling? I can't promise any more than I have; but I'll promise that again and again if you like.
MRS. G. (_Her head on his shoulder._) _Say_ it, then--say it! N-no--don't! The--the--eagles would laugh. (_Recovering._) My husband, you've married a little goose.
CAPT. G. (_Very tenderly._) Have I? I am content whatever she is, so long as she is mine.
MRS. G. (_Quickly._) Because she is yours or because she is me mineself?
CAPT. G. Because she is both. (_Piteously._) I'm not clever, dear, and I don't think I can make myself understood properly.
MRS. G. _I_ understand. Pip, will you tell me something?
CAPT. G. Anything you like. (_Aside._) I wonder what's coming now.
MRS. G. (_Haltingly, her eyes lowered._) You told me once in the old days--centuries and centuries ago--that you had been engaged before. I didn't say anything--_then._
CAPT. G. (_Innocently._) Why not?
MRS. G. (_Raising her eyes to his._) Because--because I was afraid of losing you, my heart. But now--tell about it--_please._
CAPT. G. There's nothing to tell. I was awf'ly old then--nearly two and twenty--and she was _quite_ that.
MRS. G. That means she was older than you. I shouldn't like her to have been younger. Well?
CAPT. G. Well, I fancied myself in love and raved about a bit, and--oh, yes, by Jove! I made up poetry. Ha! Ha!
MRS. G. You never wrote any for _me!_ What happened?
CAPT. G. I came out here, and the whole thing went _phut._ She wrote to say that there had been a mistake, and then she married.
MRS. G. Did she care for you much?
CAPT. G. No. At least she didn't show it as far as I remember.
MRS. G. As far as you remember! Do you remember her name? (_Hears it and bows her head._) Thank you, my husband.
CAPT. G. Who but you had the right? Now, Little Featherweight, have you ever been mixed up in any dark and dismal tragedy?
MRS. G. If you call me Mrs. Gadsby, p'raps I'll tell.
CAPT. G. (_Throwing Parade rasp into his voice._) Mrs. Gadsby, confess!
MRS. G. Good Heavens, Phil! I never knew that you could speak in that terrible voice.
CAPT. G. You don't know half my accomplishments yet. Wait till we are settled in the Plains, and I'll show you how I bark at my troop. You were going to say, darling?
MRS. G. I--I don't like to, after that voice. (_Tremulously._) Phil, never you _dare_ to speak to me in that tone, whatever I may do!
CAPT. G. My poor little love! Why, you're shaking all over. I _am_ so sorry. Of course I never meant to upset you. Don't tell me anything. I'm a brute.
MRS. G. No, you aren't, and I _will_ tell--There was a man.
CAPT. G. (_Lightly._) Was there? Lucky man!
MRS. G. (_In a whisper._) And I thought I cared for him.
CAPT. G. Still luckier man! Well?
MRS. G. And I thought I cared for him--and I didn't--and then you came--and I cared for you very, _very_ much indeed. That's all. (_Face hidden._) You aren't angry, are you?
CAPT. G. Angry? Not in the least. (_Aside._) Good Lord, what have I done to deserve this angel?
MRS. G. (_Aside._) And he never asked for the name! How funny men are! But perhaps it's as well.
CAPT. G. That man will go to heaven because you once thought you cared for him. 'Wonder if you'll ever drag me up there?
MRS. G. (_Firmly._) 'Shan't go if you don't.
CAPT. G. Thanks. I say, Pussy, I don't know much about your religious beliefs. You were brought up to believe in a heaven and all that, weren't you?
MRS. G. Yes. But it was a pincushion heaven, with hymn-books in all the pews.
CAPT. G. (_Wagging his head with intense conviction._) Never mind. There is a _pukka_ heaven.
MRS. G. Where do you bring that message from, my prophet?
CAPT. G. Here! Because we care for each other. So it's all right.
MRS. G. (_As a troop of langurs crash through the branches._) So it's all right. But Darwin says that we came from _those!_
CAPT. G. (_Placidly._) Ah! Darwin was never in love with an angel. That settles it. Sstt, you brutes! Monkeys, indeed! You shouldn't read those books.
MRS. G. (_Folding her hands._) If it pleases my Lord the King to issue proclamation.
CAPT. G. Don't, dear one. There are no orders between us. Only I'd _rather_ you didn't. They lead to nothing, and bother people's heads.
MRS. G. Like your first engagement.
CAPT.G. (_With an immense calm._) That was a necessary evil and led to you. Are _you_ nothing?
MRS. G. Not so very much, am I?
CAPT. G. All this world and the next to me.
MRS. G. (_Very softly._) My boy of boys! Shall I tell _you_ something?
CAPT. G. Yes, if it's not dreadful--about other men.
MRS. G. It's about my own bad little self.
CAPT. G. Then it must be good. Go on, dear.
MRS. G. (_Slowly._) I don't know why I'm telling you, Pip; but if ever you marry again--(_Interlude._) Take your hand from my mouth or I'll _bite!_ In the future, then remember--I don't know quite how to put it!
CAPT. G. (_Snorting indignantly._) Don't try. 'Marry again,' indeed!
MRS. G. I must. Listen, my husband. Never, never, _never_ tell your wife anything that you do not wish her to remember and think over all her life. Because a woman--yes, I _am_ a woman--_can't_ forget.
CAPT. G. By Jove, how do _you_ know that?
MRS. G. (_Confusedly._) I don't. I'm only guessing. I am--I was--a silly little girl; but I feel that I know so much, oh, so very much more than you, dearest. To begin with, I'm your wife.
CAPT. G. So I have been led to believe.
MRS. G. And I shall want to know every one of your secrets--to share everything you know with you. (_Stares round desperately._)
CAPT. G. So you shall, dear, so you shall--but don't look like that.
MRS. G. For your own sake don't stop me, Phil. I shall never talk to you in this way again. You must _not_ tell me! At least, not now. Later on, when I'm an old matron it won't matter, but if you love me, be very good to me now; for this part of my life I shall _never_ forget! Have I made you understand?
CAPT. G. I think so, child. Have I said anything yet that you disapprove of?
MRS. G. Will you be _very_ angry? That--that voice, and what you said about the engagement--
CAPT. G. But you _asked_ to be told that, darling.
MRS. G. And _that's_ why you shouldn't have told me! You must be the judge, and, oh, Pip, dearly as I love you, I shan't be able to help you! I shall hinder you, and you must judge in spite of me!
CAPT. G. (_Meditatively._) We have a great many things to find out together, God help us both--say so, Pussy--but we shall understand each other better every day; and I think I'm beginning to see now. How in the world did you come to know just the importance of giving me just that lead?
MRS. G. I've told you that I _don't_ know. Only somehow it seemed that, in all this new life, I was being guided for your sake as well as my own.
CAPT. G. (_Aside._) Then Mafflin was right! They know, and we--we're blind--all of us. (_Lightly._) 'Getting a little beyond our depth, dear, aren't we? I'll remember, and, if I fail, let me be punished as I deserve.
MRS. G. There shall be no punishment. We'll start into life together from here--you and I--and no one else.
CAPT. G. And no one else. (_A pause._) Your eyelashes are all wet, Sweet? Was there ever such a quaint little Absurdity?
MRS. G. Was there ever such nonsense talked before?
CAPT. G. (_Knocking the ashes out of his pipe._) 'Tisn't what we say, it's what we don't say, that helps. And it's all the profoundest philosophy. But no one would understand--even if it were put into a book.
MRS. G. The idea! No--only we ourselves, or people like ourselves--if there are any people like us.
CAPT. G. (_Magisterially._) All people, not like ourselves, are blind idiots.
MRS. G. (_Wiping her eyes._) Do you think, then, that there are any people as happy as we are?
CAPT. G. 'Must be--unless we've appropriated all the happiness in the world.
MRS. G. (_Looking towards Simla._) Poor dears! Just fancy if we have!
CAPT. G. Then we'll hang on to the whole show, for it's a great deal too jolly to lose--eh, wife o' mine?
MRS. G. O Pip! Pip! How much of you is a solemn, married man and how much a horrid, slangy schoolboy?
CAPT. G. When you tell me how much of you was eighteen last birthday and how much is as old as the Sphinx and twice as mysterious, perhaps I'll attend to you. Lend me that banjo. The spirit moveth me to yowl at the sunset.
MRS. G. Mind! It's not tuned. Ah! How that jars.
CAPT. G. (_Turning pegs._) It's amazingly difficult to keep a banjo to proper pitch.
MRS. G. It's the same with all musical instruments. What shall it be?
CAPT. G. 'Vanity,' and let the hills hear. (_Sings through the first and half of the second verse. Turning to_ MRS. G.) Now, chorus! Sing, Pussy!
BOTH TOGETHER. (_Con brio, to the horror of the monkeys who are settling for the night._)--
'Vanity, all is Vanity,' said Wisdom, scorning me-- I clasped my true Love's tender hand and answered frank and free--ee:--
'If this be Vanity who'd be wise? If this be Vanity who'd be wise? If this be Vanity who'd be wi--ise? (_Crescendo._) Vanity let it be!'
MRS. G. (_Defiantly to the gray of the evening sky._) 'Vanity let it be!'
ECHO. (_From the Fagoo spur._) Let it be!
FATIMA
And you may go into every room of the house and see everything that is there, but into the Blue Room you must _not_ go.--_The Story of Blue Beard._
SCENE.--_The_ GADSBYS' _bungalow in the Plains. Time,_ 11 A. M. _on a Sunday morning._ CAPTAIN GADSBY, _in his shirt-sleeves, is bending over a complete set of Hussar's equipment, from saddle to picketing-rope, which is neatly spread over the floor of his study. He is smoking an unclean briar, and his forehead is puckered with thought._
CAPT. G. (_To himself, fingering a headstall._) Jack's an ass. There's enough brass on this to load a mule--and, if the Americans know anything about anything, it can be cut down to a bit only. 'Don't want the watering-bridle, either. Humbug!--Half a dozen sets of chains and pulleys for one horse! Rot! (_Scratching his head._) Now, let's consider it all over from the beginning. By Jove, I've forgotten the scale of weights! Ne'er mind. 'Keep the bit only, and eliminate every boss from the crupper to breastplate. No breastplate at all. Simple leather strap across the breast--like the Russians. Hi! Jack never thought of _that!_
MRS. G. (_Entering hastily, her hand bound in a cloth._) Oh, Pip, I've scalded my hand over that horrid, horrid Tiparee jam!
CAPT. G. (_Absently._) Eh! Wha-at?
MRS. G. (_With round-eyed reproach._) I've scalded it _aw_-fully! Aren't you sorry? And I _did_ so want that jam to jam properly.
CAPT. G. Poor little woman! Let me kiss the place and make it well. (_Unrolling bandage._) You small sinner! Where's that scald? I can't see it.
MRS. G. On the top of the little finger. There!--It's a most 'normous big burn!
CAPT. G. (_Kissing little finger._) Baby! Let Hyder look after the jam. You know I don't care for sweets.
MRS. G. In-deed?--Pip!
CAPT. G. Not of that kind, anyhow. And now run along, Minnie, and leave me to my own base devices. I'm busy.
MRS. G. (_Calmly settling herself in long chair._) So I see. What a mess you're making! Why have you brought all that smelly leather stuff into the house?
CAPT. G. To play with. Do you mind, dear?
MRS. G. Let _me_ play too. I'd like it.
CAPT. G. I'm afraid you wouldn't, Pussy--Don't you think that jam will burn, or whatever it is that jam does when it's not looked after by a clever little housekeeper?
MRS. G. I thought you said Hyder could attend to it. I left him in the veranda, stirring--when I hurt myself so.
CAPT. G. (_His eye returning to the equipment._) Po-oor little woman!--Three pounds four and seven is three eleven, and that can be cut down to two eight, with just a _lee_-tle care, without weakening anything. Farriery is all rot in incompetent hands. What's the use of a shoe-case when a man's scouting? He can't stick it on with a lick--like a stamp--the shoe! Skittles!
MRS. G. What's skittles? Pah! What _is_ this leather cleaned with?
CAPT. G. Cream and champagne and--Look here, dear, do you really want to talk to me about anything important?
MRS. G. No. I've done my accounts, and I thought I'd like to see what you're doing.
CAPT. G. Well, love, now you've seen and--Would you mind?--That is to say--Minnie, I really _am_ busy.
MRS. G. You want me to go?
CAPT. G. Yes, dear, for a little while. This tobacco will hang in your dress, and saddlery doesn't interest you.
MRS. G. Everything you do interests me, Pip.
CAPT. G. Yes, I know, I know, dear. I'll tell you all about it some day when I've put a head on this thing. In the meantime--
MRS. G. I'm to be turned out of the room like a troublesome child?
CAPT. G. No-o. I don't mean that exactly. But, you see, I shall be tramping up and down, shifting these things to and fro, and I shall be in your way. Don't you think so?
MRS. G. Can't I lift them about? Let me try. (_Reaches forward to trooper's saddle._)
CAPT. G. Good gracious, child, don't touch it. You'll hurt yourself. (_Picking up saddle._) Little girls aren't expected to handle _numdahs._ Now, where would you like it put? (_Holds saddle above his head._)
MRS. G. (_A break in her voice._) Nowhere. Pip, how good you are--and how strong! Oh, what's that ugly red streak inside your arm?
CAPT. G. (_Lowering saddle quickly._) Nothing. It's a mark of sorts. (_Aside._) And Jack's coming to tiffin with _his_ notions all cut and dried!
MRS. G. I know it's a mark, but I've never seen it before. It runs all up the arm. What is it?
CAPT. G. A cut--if you want to know.
MRS. G. Want to know! Of course I do! I can't have my husband cut to pieces in this way. How did it come? Was it an accident? Tell me, Pip.
CAPT. G. (_Grimly._) No. 'Twasn't an accident. I got it--from a man--in Afghanistan.
MRS. G. In action? Oh, Pip, and you _never_ told me!
CAPT. G. I'd forgotten all about it.
MRS. G. Hold up your arm! What a horrid, ugly scar! Are you sure it doesn't hurt now? How did the man give it you?
CAPT. G. (_Desperately looking at his watch._) With a knife. I came down--old Van Loo did, that's to say--and fell on my leg, so I couldn't run. And then this man came up and began chopping at me as I sprawled.
MRS. G. Oh, don't, don't! That's enough!--Well, what happened?
CAPT. G. I couldn't get to my holster, and Mafflin came round the corner and stopped the performance.
MRS. G. How? He's such a lazy man, I don't believe he did.
CAPT. G. Don't you? I don't think the man had much doubt about it. Jack cut his head off.
MRS. G. Cut--his--head--off! 'With one blow,' as they say in the books?
CAPT. G. I'm not sure. I was too interested in myself to know much about it. Anyhow, the head was off, and Jack was punching old Van Loo in the ribs to make him get up. Now you know all about it, dear, and now--
MRS. G. You want me to go, of course. You never told me about this, though I've been married to you for _ever_ so long; and you never _would_ have told me if I hadn't found out; and you never _do_ tell me anything about yourself, or what you do, or what you take an interest in.
CAPT. G. Darling, I'm always with you, aren't I?
MRS. G. Always in my pocket, you were going to say. I know you are; but you are always _thinking_ away from me.
CAPT. G. (_Trying to hide a smile._) Am I? I wasn't aware of it. I'm awf'ly sorry.
MRS. G. (_Piteously._) Oh, don't make fun of me! Pip, you know what I mean. When you are reading one of those things about Cavalry, by that idiotic Prince--why doesn't he _be_ a Prince instead of a stable-boy?
CAPT. G. Prince Kraft a stable-boy--Oh, my Aunt! Never mind, dear. You were going to say?
MRS. G. It doesn't matter; you don't care for what I say. Only--only you get up and walk about the room, staring in front of you, and then Mafflin comes in to dinner, and after I'm in the drawing-room I can hear you and him talking, and talking, and talking, about things I can't understand, and--oh, I get _so_ tired and feel _so_ lonely!--I don't want to complain and be a trouble, Pip; but I do--indeed I do!
CAPT. G. My poor darling! I never thought of that. Why don't you ask some nice people in to dinner?
MRS. G. Nice people! Where am I to find them? Horrid frumps! And if I _did_, I shouldn't be amused. You know I only want _you._
CAPT. G. And you have me surely, Sweetheart?
MRS. G. I have not! Pip, why don't you take me into your life?
CAPT. G. More than I do? That would be difficult, dear.
MRS. G. Yes, I suppose it would--to you. I'm no help to you--no companion to you; and you like to have it so.
CAPT. G. Aren't you a little unreasonable, Pussy?
MRS. G. (_Stamping her foot._) I'm the most reasonable woman in the world--when I'm treated properly.
CAPT. G. And since when have I been treating you improperly?
MRS. G. Always--and since the beginning. You _know_ you have.
CAPT. G. I don't; but I'm willing to be convinced.
MRS. G. (_Pointing to saddlery._) There!
CAPT. G. How do you mean?
MRS. G. What does all _that_ mean? Why am I not to be told? Is it so precious?
CAPT. G. I forget its exact Government value just at present. It means that it is a great deal too heavy.
MRS. G. Then why do you touch it?
CAPT. G. To make it lighter. See here, little love, I've one notion and Jack has another, but we are both agreed that all this equipment is about thirty pounds too heavy. The thing is how to cut it down without weakening any part of it, and, at the same time, allowing the trooper to carry everything he wants for his own comfort--socks and shirts and things of that kind.
MRS. G. Why doesn't he pack them in a little trunk?
CAPT. G. (_Kissing her._) Oh, you darling! Pack them in a little trunk, indeed! Hussars don't carry trunks, and it's a most important thing to make the horse do all the carrying.
MRS. G. But why need _you_ bother about it? You're not a trooper.
CAPT. G. No; but I command a few score of him; and equipment is nearly everything in these days.
MRS. G. More than _me?_
CAPT. G. Stupid! Of course not; but it's a matter that I'm tremendously interested in, because if I or Jack, or I and Jack, work out some sort of lighter saddlery and all that, it's possible that we may get it adopted.
MRS. G. How?
CAPT. G. Sanctioned at Home, where they will make a sealed pattern--a pattern that all the saddlers must copy--and so it will be used by all the regiments.
MRS. G. And that interests you?
CAPT. G. It's part of my profession, y'know, and my profession is a good deal to me. Everything in a soldier's equipment is important, and if we can improve that equipment, so much the better for the soldiers and for us.
MRS.G. Who's 'us'?
CAPT. G. Jack and I; only Jack's notions are too radical. What's that big sigh for, Minnie?
MRS. G. Oh, nothing--and you've kept all this a secret from me! Why?
CAPT. G. Not a secret, exactly, dear. I didn't say anything about it to you because I didn't think it would amuse you.
MRS. G. And am I only made to be amused?
CAPT. G. No, of course. I merely mean that it couldn't interest you.